


Lightning, Thunder, Twister

by ashandcas (ashriddle4)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Demon Dean Winchester, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Mark of Cain, Rough Kissing, Wing Kink, a little bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 09:49:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2063511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashriddle4/pseuds/ashandcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only way for Dean to cure his demon nature and the Mark of Cain: sex with an angel who is in love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lightning, Thunder, Twister

Cas shoved Dean through the cabin window. He fell back on the floor. Glass shattered around him, thousands of pieces reflecting the lightning strikes. The sky had been blue moments ago. In an instant, in the heat of this new fury, it transformed to a tumultuous green-grey.

The shards of window glass pressed into Dean’s back, cutting into his skin. He could feel it, but it didn’t hurt. He easily jumped back to his feet.

Demon reflexes and all that.

Cas leapt through the now open window. Dean was ready for him. His hand went to Cas’s throat and he slammed the angel hard against the cabin wall, knocking a framed picture from its nail.

Lightning struck outside.

They stood together, nose to nose, nearly mouth to mouth, eyes locked like heavy iron anchoring them to the moldy floor of this far-off cabin. The black rose in Dean’s eyes like poison, like venom – to remind Cas of the monster Dean had become.

He expected Cas to push him away. Cas should have pushed him away.

Instead, Cas reached to the back of Dean’s neck. Dean could feel the separate pressure of each finger against his skin. Cas leaned up and pressed his mouth to Dean’s.

Dean froze, falling into the heat and weight of a mouth he couldn’t believe was pressed against his mouth.

Lips. Teeth. Tongue.

Lightning. Thunder. Twister.

Dean was being kissed by a storm, a storm older than the earth itself, a storm that watched evolution, watched life, twist and unfold easily beneath him like a rope, like fabric.

Dean could taste grace. Cas’s fully restored grace – like comets and starlight. It was too much. Much too much.

He gripped Cas’s shoulders, feeling the smooth fabric of his new trench coat against his palms. He shoved Cas back against the wall.

Lightning struck again. A tree fell and shook the ground.

“Don’t you get what I am.”

“ _Who_ you are,” Cas corrected. “And yes, I do.” Cas reached for Dean’s shirt and Dean gripped Cas’s wrists, slammed them against the wall and locked them in place. Dean’s nails carved into the wood. He wasn’t just a demon. He was a Knight of Hell. He was as strong as an angel. Castiel’s equal.

“If you did you wouldn’t have said-“

“What, Dean? That I love you-“

“Cas-“

“That I am _in_ love with you.”

Dean gripped Cas’s wrist and pulled him away from the wall. He shoved him half way across the cabin’s living room. Cas stopped himself easily, barely wavering as he caught himself on the edge of a faded blue sofa.

“You don’t even know what that means,” Dean said.

Cas’s eyes narrowed. Heat burned from them and sizzled against Dean’s skin like holy water. “It’s you who doesn’t know what it means.”

“I don’t love you Cas,” Dean growled. “I can’t.”

The muscles in Cas’s face tightened, his body became more rigid and Dean couldn’t take his eyes off the soldier-like, weapon-like, snap and turn of his flesh over his bones. “This does not require your love for me. Only mine for you – and of course, your consent.”

Dean had already said “yes”, though he hadn’t fully known what it would mean. Well, he’d understood what it meant physically – but he didn’t know he’d have to endure this heat, this pressure, this _desire._ He couldn’t possibly have understood what it meant to be kissed by a lightning bolt until he had been.

His mouth had already been marked by Castiel’s electricity. The demon part of him, the part that didn’t care how he hurt Cas, that part wanted to taste that voltage again.

Dean stepped toward Cas. The sound of his boots on the floor were a thunder of their own.

“You want me, Angel?” he sneered. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” Cas answered with an ease that made Dean feel anything but at ease.

“What if I don’t want you?” Dean needed to shake Cas, to make him feel the shifting fear that Dean felt, that a demon shouldn’t feel.

Cas stared down at his feet. Dean’s lips twisted into a grin.

“I’m sorry,” Cas looked back up, “We don’t have to do this, but it is the only way. I’m sorry that it is the only way.”

Dean had nearly closed the distance between them. He was close enough now to Cas that he could smell him, smell that starlight again. He hadn’t been able to sense grace when he was human. Now he could. Looking into a supernova would be easier than staring into the white oblivion of Cas’s grace. So why did he keep looking? Why would he be perfectly okay with his eyes burning out?

“You like it.”

Cas shook his head. “I don’t. It…it breaks my heart.”

Dean grabbed Cas by his coat and yanked them together, no more than a sliver of firelight between them. When had the fire started in the fireplace? Had he somehow done that? Damn telekinesis.

Dean’s eyes roamed Cas’s body, now shadowed and lit and flickering by the orange heat of the flames he’d created. Dean’s mouth went dry, his blood, his demon blood, surging faster through his hell-burned veins.

He leaned in close to Cas’s ear, his bottom row of teeth skimmed the edge of Cas’s earlobe. Cas’s breath caught in his throat and he gasped.

“Wanna know a secret, angel?” Dean hissed. “Dean – the me I was before the mark, before I was this – he _wanted_ you.”

“No,” Cas protested quietly.

“Shh,” Dean’s tongue licked over the edge of Cas’s ear. “He used to think about you – in the shower, in bed at night, sometimes when he was drunk enough he’d go as far as-, well, you get the picture- and the poor man felt so guilty about it. He hated himself for it. For what he wanted to do to an angel. He’d have died before he said it aloud.” Dean laughed. “I guess he did.”

Dean pulled back from Cas, ran his thumb over Cas’s lip. “And you know what, Castiel, I don’t feel guilty anymore.”

This time, Dean kissed Cas.

Six lightning bolts struck outside. At once. Dean had no idea how many trees fell.

Their mouths moved together, wet and fast and messy. Cas bit down his lip. Hard. And he tasted blood. Still, it didn’t hurt. There was something to be said for this demon thing.

“The angel likes it rough.”

“So do you,” Cas said.

“You’re not wrong about that.” Dean bit him back.

Cas shoved Dean’s jacket off and pressed his hand against Dean’s abdomen. He slammed him down onto the coffee table which broke beneath his weight. Cas landed on top of him, crushing them together in another kiss. Cas pressed Dean’s mouth open, licked the inside of his cheek.

Dean hooked his leg behind Cas’s and flipped them over. There was no way he was letting the angel win.

Dean’s mouth moved down Cas’s throat, feeling the angel’s pulse beneath his tongue. His nose scraped along the harsh stubble.

“I’m the King of Hell, you know?”

“What?” Cas spat.

“I killed Crowley with the blade. Didn’t I tell you?”

“No. What?” He could feel Cas trying to push back against him, but Dean dissolved Cas’s resistance by biting at the sharp peaks of his collarbone. Dean laughed against his skin, started working at Cas’s buttons.

Cas used his grace to throw Dean against the wall and hold him there. Dean’s eyes went wide. Now that had been a surprise.

“Hell’s going to be a mess after we-“ Cas swallowed.

“If it works,” Dean said, still held against the wall by Cas’s power.

“It will.”

Dean scoffed. “Because you love me. Because you’re in love with me.”

“Yes, Dean.”

Dean laughed. A heavy weight fell over his mouth and silenced him. A weight that tasted like starlight.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

The weight on his mouth released. “I wasn’t. But I’m a – I’ve done things – terrible things- I don’t-“

Cas’s face softened. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved.”

“I don’t,” Dean said with a sneer.

“Neither did I, after what I did in heaven, with the leviathan. And yet-“

Cas slipped off his shirt, shook his back and Dean nearly shouted. Two massive black wings unfurled from Cas’s back, the feathers thick and glossy.

“Your wings. You got them back?”

“You’re not the only one with secrets, King of Hell.”

“I can see them.”

“You could always see them – I just never showed you.”

“Why not?”

Redness crept onto Castiel’s face. “They’re the most…intimate part of an angel.”

Dean swallowed. He wanted to make a joke about that, but the words were caught in his throat. Those black wings were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. And all those years ago he’d thought the mere shadow had been impressive.

“Why show me now?”

“Because I love you and I intend to prove it.”

“If you let me down from here, I guess there’s a way we can know for sure.”

Cas’s lips flipped into a smile. “Guess so.”

The grace holding Dean back released and his knees buckled slightly as he hit the floor again.

“Can I touch ‘em, angel?”

Cas trembled slightly but nodded.

Dean approached slowly, but not gently. He was drawn to the curve, to the beauty of the feathers, spread out before him. Dean wanted to possess them, wanted his demon fingers, his hell fingers, to trace their outline.

“They sensitive?” Dean whispered.

“Yeah.”

Dean reached out and touch their silk. They felt smooth and neat against his thumb.

“But they’re not going to break,” Cas growled, drawing his wings in closer to himself, to Dean. Dean’s hands gripped into the feathers, pulled tight.

He picked Cas up with them. Cas groaned as he wrapped his legs around Dean. Dean slammed him against the wall and released the feathers. His hands went to the wall behind them, his fingers digging into the wood, breaking through and splintering it as he ran his hands down. He gripped onto the stud in the wall and used it to hold Cas against the wall as he moved against him.

Cas’s hands gripped into Dean’s hair, pulling hard. Dean crashed their lips together. He wanted to be closer to Cas. Closer than he’d ever been to anything and he had no idea what to do with that feeling, where to fit it into his existence, because it seemed so much bigger than the universe – and like the universe in how it kept expanding and expanding.

Cas pushed Dean back and the sudden distance felt like a million miles, like all the highways Dean had ever driven stretched out in to a straight line between them. But suddenly that distance was obliterated and Cas was on him again. His mouth everywhere, his hands everywhere. He was tearing at the layers Dean wore, ripping the fabric, shredding it like it was paper, like tissue until Dean was standing there, shirtless, his chest exposed to the air and to the Cas.

Cas ran his hands from Dean’s shoulders, pressing into the soft gap between each rib and coming to rest in the angled groove of his hips just above the tight stretch of dark denim over his tan skin.

“You’re just like I remember you. Just like when I stitched you back together. God,” Cas said, but not like a curse, like a prayer. “The stars would be jealous of you.”

“Oh hell, Cas,” Dean breathed. “I can’t.”

Cas licked the dark line of hair between Dean’s navel and the button on his jeans. “I can stop. If that’s what you want.”

“No. Don’t. Don’t stop.”

Cas grabbed onto Dean’s ankle and slammed him against the floor. That would have hurt if he wasn’t a demon. Cas put his hands on each side of Dean’s shoulders and held himself up. Dean shut his eyes.

“Please look at me, Dean,” Cas whispered.

Dean forced his eyes open. “W-what are you doing?”

Cas kissed Dean’s mouth softly. “Let me show you.”

Dean nodded and Cas showed him.

Cas showed Dean as he pulled the denim down his legs. Tugged off each worn boot.

As he took of the last of Dean’s clothing, but left his watch. As he locked Dean’s hands above his neck and kissed every last inch of Dean’s body, every fingernail, every eyelash.

Cas touched places nobody else had ever touched.

“Cas, I don’t-“

“I can always stop, Dean, but just know there isn’t a part of you that I have not already seen, not a part of you I have not already touched.”

Dean groaned. “Damn, Cas. Okay.”

Cas smirked. “Okay.”

He could hardly believe this was happening. Could hardly believe anything. He just let Cas touch him and listened to the rain drum against the windows while he realized that this was what grace really was. Not some killing power for angels, but this. This love in the absence of reason.

He watched as Cas slipped off his own black pants. So there was nothing, but skin and black feathers. If stars would be jealous of Dean, galaxies would be jealous of Cas.

Cas pulled himself back up to Dean and kissed him hard. “I love you,” Cas said and that was it. They were together.

Lightning struck outside.

They paused, foreheads pressed together. Breathing. Waiting. Trying to hold on to the tiny shimmer of infinity they’d created as long as they could.

“Cas, please.”

And Cas obeyed. Cas moved. Dean held on.

Words whispered in Enochian.

Words dripping their way into English – so that Dean could understand them

Dean should’ve felt ashamed, should’ve wanted to fold in on his black and tarnished self. Burn away. But he didn’t He wanted to bask in it, wanted to let those words wind their way into his skin, into his blood, encode themselves in his very DNA.

Words from Cas.

As good as any prayer. Better even, Dean thought.

Dean buried his hands in Cas’s wings and shared his breaths. Cas placed a hand just above Dean’s heart.

It was like this that hell fell away from him. That its sulfurous grip lost its hold. As Cas loved him and Dean felt that love and drowned in that love only to realize that love was better than oxygen. With Cas’s name a shout on his lips, his body shaken.

“There you are.” Cas ran his hand down Dean’s arm. The Mark of Cain was gone, but Dean noticed something else.

“Cas, look.”

On his chest, where Cas’s hand had been was a handprint – like the one that had been on his arm the first time Cas pulled him from hell.

When Cas laid down beside him, he kissed him gently on the neck.

“Dean, I need you to know that I knew the cost of this and counted it.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean’s freshly human heart pounded.

“It’s going to hurt, but I will live. Just- just please don’t leave me and don’t blame yourself. Promise?”

“Cas.”

“Promise me, Dean?”

Dean nodded.

Cas touched Dean’s cheek. “I love you so much.”

Something sparked in the corner of Dean’s eye, at the tip of Cas’s wing. An actual spark. Fire.

Cas screamed as flames engulfed his wings. He thrashed and writhed on the floor as Dean sat there on his knees. A tear slid down Dean’s cheek as he watched helplessly, his heart breaking.

“Cas, no. No you didn’t. No.”

In seconds, both those beautiful wings were nothing but grey ash on the hardwood floor.

“It’s not over yet,” Cas said. “Can you, can you hold me?”

Dean swallowed and pulled Cas’s body into his arm and stroked back his sweaty hair. Dean had no idea how long he sat on that floor, clutching Cas, waiting for the agony to pass as his grace burned from his body.

When it was over, Cas let out a long breath and slumped against Dean’s body. He was breathing, but looked asleep.

“I’m so sorry, Cas. So sorry,” Dean muttered.

Cas’s eyes fluttered open and he smiled. “I’m not.”

 

 


End file.
